House of Wax: Rewritten
by Flashes09
Summary: What if Wade had escaped? Written in Wade's POV


Title: House of Wax: My Version 

Author: Flashes09

Disclaimer: I don't own "House of Wax" or anything. But I would like Jared Padalecki. Or the wax figure them made of him.

A/N: Okay, this story starts after Wade is captured. I mostly wrote this because I hated that, not only does Wade die, he's the first to go. I mean, hr even died before Paris Hilton. that's horrible! If you can't tell, I love Jared Padalecki very much, every since "A Ring of Endless Light" and strait up to "Supernatural".

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**House of Wax: Rewritten**

_Wade's POV_

The weird guy tied my hands up and used them to drag me out of the room. He kept dragging me, going downstairs, through the museum, and down into a basement. I think I hit my head on something hard, because I blacked out.

I woke up in pain. The freaky guy was stitching me up with a rusty needle, and it hurt like hell. Every time I moved to hit his hand, he moved it back as though it was nothing. He finished stitching up the wounds he had inflicted on me, and left.

I groaned, and attempted to roll on my side. I could see my clothes in a pile on the floor, a fire burning on the opposite wall, and a terrifying wall of sharp instruments. The guy came back, and pushed me on my back again. I his hand he held a pot of melted wax.

There was a loud crash overhead and the guy's head snapped to look towards the ceiling. He looked back down at me, then picked up a knife and moved towards the stairs. He slammed the door at the top and was gone. This was my chance.

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I strained and sat up, then got off the table. I didn't know how much time I had, so I needed to hurry. I leaned down, grabbed my clothes, then went over to the wall of knives and other deadly things. I grabbed the biggest, sharpest knife there was. I looked around and ran, well, kind of jogged-limped to a back staircase. I went up it, praying the creaks couldn't be heard upstairs. The door at the top wouldn't open at first, but I put my shoulder to it and it gave. 

I ran out onto the road and down to the town. I stopped for a second to get dressed, as it was cold out. Then I re-gripped my knife and kept going. I emerged from behind the trees and I saw Bo going into the church. I'd had enough of this shit. I went towards the door, intent on getting some answers. The door was ajar and I slipped in, careful to not make a sound.

Bo was creeping up the aisle, making no sound. He stopped and stood at the coffin. This was my chance.

I crept up the aisle as fast as I could. I saw Bo's shoulder's hunch, and I realized the priest's robe was moving. And out from under it came Carly. She stood up and saw Bo, and me. Suddenly she knew what I was doing, and she kept his attention. I rushed up and put all my strength into my arm. I slammed the knife into his back.

Bo wheeled around, the knife still in his back. He tackled me and we fell to the floor rolling back and forth. Carly ran to us, and took the knife out of Bo's back, only to plunge it into his heart when I got him pinned.

Bo went still, and Carly backed away. She had blood on her shirt and hands, and tears rolling down her cheeks. I got up and went to her.

"Come on," I said gently. "We need to get out of here." I took her hand and led her out the door, and down the road.

"Wade." I looked down and Carly had stopped crying. "I called, and Nick's on his way. Let's just walk on the road." I was afraid to tell her about the psycho guy that had stitched me up. I didn't know where he was, but I wasn't going to worry.

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We had been walking for a few minutes when I got this sense of someone watching me. I turned, but there was no one. I kept walking but the feeling only got stronger. I turned yet again, but instead of empty road, I saw the psycho rushing toward us. 

We were defenseless, having left the knife I took buried in Bo's chest. I pushed Carly out of the way and waited for the guy. He kept coming at me, but I sidestepped, ended up behind him and pushed him down. He lay sprawled on the pavement.

I thought he wasn't going to get up. But he played possum well. As I got closer he jumped up and attacked again. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Carly creep out of the woods with a big stick in her hand. She gave him a good whack over the head but, instead of the guy falling over he acted unfazed. Carly dropped the stick and backed away. I backed up, too. This guy was different.

Up the road, a car swerved around the corner and came toward us. At the wheel sat Nick, watching the psycho. He sped up and, by the time the guy figured out what was happening, it was too late. Nick hit him with the car.

* * *

This time, the strange guy didn't get up. Carly ran to her brother and hugged him. I came up slower, feeling tired. Exhausted really. 

"Hey, what happened to you guys?" On the car ride home, I sat while Carly recounted her part, I was glad Bo was dead after that, then I gave mine. Carly demanded to see the stitches and Nick turned on another road to take me to a hospital. I lifted my shirt. Some of the stitches had broken and bled. I was getting light-headed and felt almost detached. I finally fell asleep, my head laid back on the head rest.

* * *

I sat up and put my arms around Carly. She was shivering, and he skin was cold. 

"Another nightmare?" She nodded and put her head on my shoulder, runnng her fingers over the scars on my chest. "It's okay."

"I know, you're here." In a strange way, it comforted me to know she thought that. But I still worried. Whenever she was gone, I wondered if we had really killed those two guys. It sickened me that they could still be alive, doing something horrible to another innocent person.

Carly had fallen asleep again. I lay down gently, still holding her. I'd do anything to protect her.

And God help anyone that tried to hurt her.

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Please, review. Please. Please. I don't like to beg. Please, review! 


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